


All Those Wolf Problems

by pinkstarpirate



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: CW: demons and monsters, CW: descriptions of gore, Know that there is a description of a monster that feels pretty gore-like but no violence, M/M, Part of a bigger planned series, written for my friend FLOOOO!!! for a mini-exchange and this entire series is dedicated to her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkstarpirate/pseuds/pinkstarpirate
Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi was turned by a feral werewolf almost a year ago, and though so much of himself is the same as it was when he was human, so much has changed too. There are things he never thought he needed as a human that he just can't seem to ignore now that he is a werewolf.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	All Those Wolf Problems

**Author's Note:**

> For my wonderful, creative, beautiful friend Floo (Floobin) who is the reason this AU exists at all. May her love and obsession with HQ (well, all) werewolves infect you like it has me.
> 
> Note, this is part of a larger planned series, but it should be able to stand alone as well. Enjoy!

Kiyoomi opened his eyes slowly, groaning at the pleasant ache of pain that resonated throughout his body. 

_Fuck, no, please no,_ he thought as he closed them again immediately, recognizing the crisp morning air, quiet bird calls, and the steadily brightening horizon. 

He knew this spot. He knew what he would find when he opened his eyes. His nostrils were assaulted, thanks to his no longer quite human sense of smell, with the many ‘beautiful’ scents of nature, including the earthy smell of the leaves gathered beneath him, many of them beginning their journey to decomposition even as he laid among them, dirty and...oh no, dirty and _naked._

“O-omi...kun?” a voice called from the treeline just behind the cliff that Kiyoomi was sleeping on in his bed of leaves. And fucking hell if Kiyoomi didn’t recognize that smarmy asshole’s voice.

A man in a suit wandered out of the wood, pointed ears laid flat to his head, two long tails swishing jerkily behind him, obviously agitated. What Kuroo Tetsurou thought he’d gain by wandering in a suit in the woods, Kiyoomi would never know. The man looked ridiculous in his obviously expensive vest and trousers, his jacket draped over his arm, and his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Kiyoomi could see why his packmate Bokuto was a little obsessed with this particular nekomata, he really could, he was a handsome asshole, but an asshole all the same. Not that Kiyoomi thought the world was hurting for assholes, in fact, it was overburdened by them. 

“The full moon isn’t for another week,” Kuroo said as his ears finally perked up and tails fell into a relaxed posture behind him, no longer perceiving Sakusa as a threat.

“I know,” is all Kiyoomi responded with, sitting up in the leaves, his gaze drawn to the cliff edge that he was far, far too close to for his own personal comfort. 

Kiyoomi hated heights, but his wolf didn’t. His stupid fucking wolf loved sitting on cliffs and howling like a damn fool. It was so cliche that Kiyoomi almost threw himself right off said cliff in abject mortification. That wasn’t the only reason he wanted to fling himself to his end, but it was the most pressing; the others being that he was naked and covered in forest grime, he was being stared at by a particularly powerful nekomata, and—this was the part he was most loathe to admit—none of his pack mates were anywhere in the area. Kiyoomi couldn’t smell a single one of them. Not Bokuto’s strong and sure earthy scent, or Hinata’s bright sunshine scent, or either of the Miya twin’s parallel scents of distant smoke and trees. The difference between them was that Atsumu, the jerk, smelled of cedar; while his brother Osamu, much less of a jerk, smelled of fresh pine. 

“Um,” Kuroo said as he did a quick circle, glancing around the strewn sticks and leaves, “I take it that you have no idea where your clothes are.”

“I don’t,” Kiyoomi replied, hands reflexively falling into his lap to cover himself.

Kuroo didn’t even think it necessary to hide the wide smirk on his smug face as he looked Sakusa up and down.  
  
“Well,” Kuroo began, “The bar isn’t far from here. I suppose I can lend you my protection and cloaking magic until we get there.”

“What’ll it cost?” Kiyoomi immediately asked. Favors always cost something. He didn’t really like the idea of owing this damn cat demon a single thing.

Kuroo brought his hand to his chin, rubbing it in a way that Kiyoomi supposed was to look contemplative, but it was obvious the cat already knew his price.  
  
“Brag about my good deed to Koutarou for me?” Kuroo finally replied, his grin showing many, many sharp teeth.

It was almost too shameful to agree to, but Kiyoomi liked the idea of wandering through the woods naked and unprotected even less. In the faint light of pre-dawn, many of the monsters who traversed these woods would be out looking for one final snack before tucking themselves away for the day. Kiyoomi wasn’t really looking to be that particular snack.

“Fine,” he said as he stood, drawing himself up to his full height. 

It was strange, because he’d always been tall and gangly his whole life, but there was a sense that it had become _more_. He’d been a professional volleyball player before that feral werewolf attacked him and turned him that horrible night almost a year ago. But as he looked at Kuroo, a spectacularly tall specimen of a monster-man himself, Kiyoomi knew instinctively that he was taller than he used to be, probably a little more muscular too. 

“Okay, _Sunshine,_ ” and Kiyoomi almost strangled the nekomata for the stupid use of the pet name Kuroo had given him, specifically because Sakusa was a gloomy kind of guy, “Let’s get going. There were only a couple patrons when I left, but I’m sure Oikawa has found some way to almost destroy my beloved bar. He means well, but is definitely a disaster when it comes to doing any kind of work.”

Oikawa, a truly and horrifically powerful shadow demon, was actually someone Kiyoomi enjoyed being around. No one, including Kiyoomi, quite understood why the two of them got on so well. Oikawa could be flamboyant and gregarious, attention-seeking to a fault, but he could also be quiet and contemplative, and he was honestly brilliant. When Kiyoomi could cajole Oikawa into a serious mood, the two of them could lose themselves in discussion for hours. It was often how Kiyoomi entertained himself whenever he and his pack went to The Monster Bar, an establishment co-owned by Kuroo Tetsurou and Kiyoomi’s pack mate Miya Osamu. 

Kiyoomi was grateful for the lack of wind as he started trudging through the trees behind Kuroo, careful to remain close in order to stay within the bubble of shared magic Kuroo extended to him. The late-fall air was crisp and clean and Kiyoomi drew in long, deep breaths of it. These woods, the ones that bordered the city that Kiyoomi moved to in order to play professional volleyball, were of the mystical variety. How a large urban city and a magical forest wound up neighbors, he would never know, but whenever Kiyoomi was in the forest the air felt clean and fresh and free of the grime and pollution of the city. If only the rest of the forest was as clean and pure as the air. Kiyoomi did his best to purposefully ignore the squish of decayed leaves and mud caking onto his bare feet. It was a miracle though, because only a few months ago he would have had an absolute tizzy if he’d found himself in this same situation. Though it should be said that he had woken up many times in similar situations, but always with Bokuto, Hinata, Osamu, or Atsumu at his side, and always predictably after the full moon or when it was by choice to transform. Kiyoomi had never been forced into transforming when it wasn’t a full moon, and that bothered him more than he cared to think about at the moment. 

“Almost there,” Kuroo said quietly, his eyes glued to a particular tree. He waited until Kiyoomi was closer before taking another step. Something told Kiyoomi that there was some nasty magical creature near the tree Kuroo was focused on, one that required Kiyoomi to stay close to the man gracing him with magical invisibility. 

This was confirmed when something oozed around the side of the tree. Kuroo froze and Kiyoomi immediately copied the nekomata, not wanting to alert this thing to their presence. The fear that danced in Kuroo’s eyes said more than words possibly could. 

This monster wasn’t anything Kiyoomi recognized, but it was a ghastly thing. At first, it looked like a giant worm of some sort, at least a foot wide and longer than either Kuroo or Sakusa were tall, and it moved along in a nebulous line that was wrapped around the trunk of the tree. However, on closer inspection, Kiyoomi could see the bits and pieces of flesh wedged into the amorphous thing. Half-decomposed skulls of animals, body parts, bone, and rotted intestines. It smelled worse than it looked and Kiyoomi silently choked back the gag that threatened to leave his lips.

Kuroo’s features seemed to slowly morph into something more feline, and the hand that had been raised to warn Kiyoomi into stillness was now tipped with long, graceful claws, sharp and ready to eviscerate whatever threatened the nekomata. The only part of Kuroo that moved at all was the tips of his two tails, which twitched ever so slightly as he stared at the monster draped around the tree. 

The wolf inside of Kiyoomi, even though it was obviously tired and magically depleted from the previous night’s transformation, seemed to awaken at the threat. He wouldn’t transform, he probably couldn’t with as little magic in him, but that weird feeling like his teeth were itching was back. He ran his tongue over his canines to find them sharp and long. He looked down at his hands to find that, like Kuroo, they were now tipped with sharp claws. His bones ached in desire to transform more, but this was all he could manage.

The thing oozed down from the tree, glowing slightly as it piled into a single blob, flesh and bone and everything else slowly undulating within its mass. The bits of it seemed to crawl up, to be taller, as if it was trying to form into something else, something that resembled a four-legged animal, but it was still all stinking flesh and half-formed bone. At one point, one of the skulls sticking out of the thing’s shoulder shook and shifted slowly until the empty eye sockets seemed to look right at Kuroo and Kiyoomi. It made Kiyoomi want to be sick. The skull seemed to pull forward, leaning toward them, stretching to reach the two human-like monsters who were hopefully still cloaked in enough magic to remain out of this thing’s purview. Still, the skull inched closer, flesh chasing and growing after it like a long stalk protruding from the rest of the almost-animal shaped body. It felt...wrong, so very, very wrong. 

The skull, speckled with little bits of meat and fur, not clean and bleached like other skulls Kiyoomi had seen lying along the forest floor, tilted itself as if it was considering the area where Kiyoomi and Kuroo stood. Kiyoomi’s sensitive ears picked up on the nearly silent growl coming from Kuroo, and Kiyoomi wasn’t even sure if the nekomata was aware he was doing it. An eyeball, from somewhere _within_ the skull rolled into one of the empty sockets. It was old and decayed, the lens of it faded and milky-looking, and it still managed to appear to be staring right at them. A second eyeball rolled into the other socket just as the skull turned away to look in the direction of the horizon.  
  
“The sun’s rising, thank fuck,” Kuroo muttered under his breath. 

The long stalk the skull was attached to pulled back, tucking itself just enough that it seemed more normal, more realistic. It was no longer a stalk, but rather a neck. Horns sprouted from the skull, stretching up and branching out like small trees, flesh quickly moved to cover the skull, until it was not a skull, but the head of a deer. For a moment it was a half-dead dear, still decomposing and rotten, until the rolling break of dawn seemed to flood over them, magic breaking and burning away, and in a blink of an eye all that stood before them was a large buck. It blinked slowly, seeming to test itself, and it took one step and then another, and then it was bounding away deeper into the woods.

“As soon as I get back I’m sending Oikawa into the woods to kill the fuck out of that thing,” Kuroo said before he let out a heavy exhale. 

“W-what the fuck was that?” Kiyoomi asked, not able to keep the fear and trembling out of his voice.

“I don’t know. And I don’t like that I don’t know,” Kuroo said, pulling himself up into his normal relaxed stance, and now that dawn broke, he also looked entirely human. Kiyoomi knew the nekomata would have to manifest his feline features purposefully now that it was daytime, but there really wasn’t a need, so Kuroo stayed ‘human’ as they walked. 

Soon the edge of the forest met gravel, which formed into concrete, which then grew into buildings and warehouses, and the rest of the city towered in the distance. One of the buildings on the outskirts of the warehouse district had a small set of stairs that led to a basement door. There was no sign to announce that this was the entrance to The Monster Bar, but it was that all the same. 

Kiyoomi did his best to kick off the mud and leaves stuck to his toes and feet before they went inside. The fact that he was dirty and smelled of muck and grime seemed a much more pressing concern than the fact that his ass and manhood were entirely exposed to the world. Well, it had been, until Kiyoomi walked inside.

“Omi-kun?” a familiar voice asked as soon as Kuroo and Kiyoomi entered. 

Kiyoomi looked up to find a man sitting at the bar, similarly disheveled, looking as if he’d had a very tough night hunting monsters; though, unlike Kiyoomi, the other man was still fully clothed. 

It didn’t help that it was in this moment in which Kuroo doubled over and began to laugh in that annoying braying way of his. The only thing that kept Kiyoomi from ripping Kuroo’s heart from his chest, which Kiyoomi’s wolf was enthusiastically encouraging him to do from somewhere in the deep recesses of his subconscious, was the fact that the nekomata obviously saved his life only moments earlier from some kind of flesh deer demon.

Kiyoomi, still stunned into unmoving silence, was unable to say a single word as Ushijima brought over his coat and placed it around Kiyoomi’s shoulders.  
  
“For fucks sake, Tetsu, get the man some clothes,” Oikawa said from behind the bar. 

“Your lazy ass could get some just as easily,” Kuroo snapped back at his partner.

“Meh, I don’t actually own clothes, I manifest them on my body, and I’m not sure which of yours you want Omi-kun to ruin. He’s rather dirty.”

Kiyoomi didn’t think the heated embarrassment which flushed his whole face, chest, and the tips of his ears bright red could get worse, but knowing that he was perceivable dirty to other people, not just to his own hyper-focused and obsessive mind, made him want to die. 

“Maybe a shower? Is there one available?” Ushijima asked as he tugged his coat tighter around Kiyoomi’s shoulders. He reached up and plucked a leaf out of Kiyoomi’s hair and dropped it to the ground.  
  
Kuroo, quietly observing Ushijima with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk, nodded. “There’s one in my apartment—”

“ _Our_ apartment,” Oikawa interrupted.

Kuroo ignored his boyfriend and continued, “You’re welcome to borrow it Omi-kun. I’ll get you some clean clothes for when you get out. Follow me. Ushiwaka-kun, I think you could probably stand a shower as well.”

And well, it wasn’t like he and Wakatoshi weren’t...well-acquainted at this point, so that's how Kiyoomi found himself in Kuroo Tetsurou’s (and Oikawa Tooru’s) luxurious shower. It was bigger than the entire bathroom back where Kiyoomi lived with Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu. It was almost obnoxious how beautiful Kuroo’s apartment was. The decorating was understated and simple, but obviously expensive in the way that minimalist things tended to be. It was also big, much like the shower, not surprising since it was hidden in a building that appeared to be a run-down warehouse. 

The shower had two traditional shower heads on either side of its massive space, but because Kiyoomi hadn’t been sure how to run the thing, and neither had Wakatoshi, and Kuroo had fucked off to who knows where, it ran on a pre-programmed pattern, including just raining down from the ceiling. Kiyoomi hated to admit it, but honestly, it felt heavenly. It was something he could focus on more than the other naked man standing next to him in this wonderful monstrosity of luxury. 

“Here,” Wakatoshi said as he held a bottle of what seemed to be shampoo. “I can do this if you want.”

And oh, yes, Kiyoomi _wanted_. It was why he was forcing himself to focus on the shower amenities rather than the naked, wet, hunk of a monster hunter standing next to him. It felt rude to act on his baser instincts in a shower that didn’t belong to him or Wakatoshi. And who knew if Kuroo would pop back in with clothes or other things. So yes, he very much wanted Wakatoshi to do things, but instead he just turned around so that his back was to the other man and said, “Sure.”

Kiyoomi heard the cap on the shampoo bottle pop open, and it felt weird to know that a shadow demon and a nekomata used shampoo. Did they need to actually use it, or was this just part of their little ‘playing human’ act that Kuroo and Oikawa seemed to be so fond of. Then, strong, gentle hands broke Kiyoomi out of his musings, and they were all he could focus on. Wakatoshi carefully worked the shampoo into Kiyoomi’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp while working from the top down all the way to the nape of his neck.

“So the wolf forcibly transformed you?” Wakatoshi asked, and because the man was surprisingly bad at masking his emotions, Kiyoomi could hear the worry in his tone. It honestly worried Kiyoomi as well. He’d never lost control of himself like that before, at least not when it wasn’t a full moon, a time all werewolves tended to lose themselves

“Yeah, I…” and Kiyoomi’s voice trailed off. What else should he say? Should he be careful? Toshi was a hunter after all. Did this kind of thing mean that Kiyoomi was dangerous? Was he becoming feral like the wolf that attacked and turned him? Would Wakatoshi have to kill him like he had so many other feral werewolves?

“You must have been suppressing some need,” Wakatoshi finally said. It wasn’t harsh or judgmental, but it was still tinged with worry, even so, it still made Kiyoomi feel better. “I think you should talk to your pack. But also, I’ll see if Satori has something that can help.”

A stab of guilt ran through Kiyoomi’s gut. He hadn’t seen Satori or Wakatoshi in a few weeks. The situation between them had just become...a lot. He wasn’t used to having this kind of thing that he had with them. He wasn’t used to being _involved_ with anyone, and it wasn’t just one person, it was two. 

“Satori misses you,” Ushijima said as he laid a hand on Kiyoomi’s lower back and led him under the spray of one of the two shower heads, the water pressure better than the water that fell from half of the ceiling. Kiyoomi closed his eyes as he let it rinse the shampoo from his hair. 

He turned around so that he could make sure to completely rinse his hair, finding Wakatoshi right behind him, a soft expression in his eyes. It pulled words out of Kiyoomi that he never thought he’d say “I’ve missed Satori, too.” And then after a few seconds he amended, “I’ve missed you as well, ‘Toshi.”

“Ah,” Wakatoshi responded, only a simple sound of acknowledgment, but Kiyoomi could hear the relief in it.

Kiyoomi leaned forward, not quite closing the gap between them, but it was literally a near thing. This man, god, _this man_. Kiyoomi always did have an obsessive kind of personality. It’s why he threw himself into volleyball. It’s why he spent a month reading hundreds of books on lycanthropy after he was turned into a werewolf. It is the ‘why’ to so many aspects of himself. And it is definitely the reason he cannot shake himself of Wakatoshi Ushijima or Satori Tendou. 

It was Wakatoshi who finally gave in and reached for Kiyoomi, pulling the other man into him, slick and wet and desperate. The kiss was the kind that Kiyoomi never thought he’d like—open, messy, and all-consuming. And honestly, as much as Kiyoomi hated the grime and scum of the forest that his wolf loved so much, that is how much Kiyoomi loved showers, usually staying until the water ran cold. So being in this unbelievably sumptuous bit of plumbing with Wakatoshi was definitely doing it for him. Also, his first time with Wakatoshi was in a shower, so it seemed fitting that neither would be able to resist the other now. He wanted to be consumed by Wakatoshi, there was honestly nothing he wanted more. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening piqued Kiyoomi’s sensitive ears, and he growled in frustration when he heard, “Oikawa will be happy to hear that the two of you actually _are_ befouling our bathroom,” Kuroo said. “I told him that Ushijima and Sakusa would never…” and he let his voice trail off, his tone something that could almost be described as conspiratorially happy. And as quickly as Kuroo interrupted their little shower foray, he exited just as fast. 

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me,” Wakatoshi said, but he didn’t move away from Kiyoomi, his gaze fixed downward between them.

And it didn’t really surprise Kiyoomi to find that they were both a little _interested_ when he also looked down. Whatever shame he normally would have felt by being caught fooling around when he was a guest in someone’s home was dampened by the sheer screaming need of his wolf in the back of his mind. 

_Oh._

“I think…” and Kiyoomi wasn’t even sure how to explain his realization to Wakatoshi, and not sure he wanted to try. “I think I know why I transformed.” 

“Hmm?” Wakatoshi hummed quietly as his gaze trailed upwards until it finally met Kiyoomi’s. 

It was as if Wakatoshi was incredibly reluctant to face the other man. Not only that, but the bridge of Wakatoshi’s nose and cheeks were bright red. Kiyoomi didn’t even know that Toshi could blush like that. It made it very difficult not to lean in and kiss the other man again.

“I think my wolf missed you.” 

That wasn’t quite right. The way he should have said it was that Kiyoomi’s wolf had _needed_ Toshi, still needed him, in fact, as one sloppy kiss was not at all fulfilling to the monster who craved Ushijima Wakatoshi.  
  
“And Satori,” Sakusa added, because Tendou’s face flashed in his mind’s eye as well, along with some other rather lewd, suggestive images of both the witch and his monster hunter boyfriend. 

It was almost shocking when Toshi’s mouth quirked into a small smile and he let out a single snort of laughter. Kiyoomi was always weak to a smiling, laughing Toshi. 

“So it was because you’ve been ignoring his needs?” Wakatoshi said, still smiling. “His carnal needs?”

Kiyoomi blinked, only barely processing that Toshi was making a joke. If Tendou hadn’t taught him that this was exactly how Wakatoshi’s humor manifested, he would have never realized that Toshi was teasing him.

“I suppose,” Kiyoomi said flatly, not one who really liked being teased, even if it was Toshi doing the teasing. 

“Hmm, I think I could probably help with that, but perhaps we should get out of the shower and go somewhere with less eavesdroppers,” Wakatoshi suggested.

As if on cue, two insulted voices echoed, “Hey!” from the other side of the bathroom door. 

Later in the day, when Kiyoomi woke from a much-needed nap in a large bed with Satori on one side of him and Toshi on the other, all of them completely naked and sated, Kiyoomi realized that his wolf was no longer whispering agitated things to him in his mind, and was no longer making his body thrum with some unknown need. Kiyoomi kind of wanted to berate the thing, telling the creature, ‘You could have just told me you were horny.’ 

But that wasn’t all of it, it was a need that went beyond the pleasures of the flesh and Kiyoomi knew it. It was a need that he had been unaware of until Toshi and Satori filled it and had created a bond that couldn’t just be purposefully forgotten. Kiyoomi ran a hand through the short-cropped hair of Tendou’s head, eliciting a happy groan as Satori curled closer, and instead of running from the intimacy and nearness of another person as he would have before being turned, Kiyoomi’s hand moved to Satori’s shoulder as he protectively held the other man against his body.

“I’m glad you came back,” Wakatoshi said, shifting to turn toward Kiyoomi.

One of Toshi’s hands moved to the nape of Kiyoomi’s neck, fingers playing with the soft curls of Kiyoomi’s hair. This hand had killed many werewolves and other monsters. It was a hand of death and destruction, but there was no fear as Kiyoomi, now just as much a monster as those Wakatoshi had killed, leaned into the touch. 

“I’m glad I did, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kuroo uses the kun honorific for everyone in this because he and Oikawa are old as balls (like 500 years old).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
